Lullabies and swing sets
by dontstraytoofar
Summary: Both can't sleep, and nightmares have never felt so scary. first SQ oneshot/story. Hope you like it and review :)


It was when nightmares were in Regina's sleep that Emma would sing.

Aboard the Jolly Roger with the gentle laps of waves against the hull, Regina would listen to her voice.

She wouldn't be facing her serenader but staring at wood as her back faced Emma and words of beautiful songs would flow over her body and find place in her ears.

Emma would always sit up and cross her legs with her head gently leaning on the wall and she would watch as sobs shook Regina's body and tears flow into her pillow.

The first time she woke from the darkness was when Emma awoke as well.

Both woman didn't speak as Regina's sniffles quietened down and Emma's fear dwindled.

Both too shaken up from past memories and unlovable parents.

So they would lay, just finding comfort in each others silence until Emma's voice rang out surprising Regina as she lay counting splinters in the wall.

"I found a little heaven in this world of hell

so sleep now little princess

all is well.

Lonely thoughts,

and swaying trees;

leave the thoughts

to the breeze.

And in the light

from the morning sun,

of quiet whispers

and breathing lungs;

find your way

out of sorrow

and smile as you

see tomorrow"

The last note would be sung and Regina's tears would cease as she closed her eyes. And Emma would still sit there, staring at Regina's back not knowing if the song was heard but smiled anyways because Regina's breathing had evened out and soft snores could be heard from across the room.

She didn't know why she chose to sing. But the first thing that came out of her mouth when she heard soft cries from Regina was one childhood memory she holds closest. It was one of her foster mothers bed time songs she would sing when she was 7.

No one talked.

It was just her and her mum and soft whispers of happiness in the form of a song and it never failed in calming a crying pouty Emma Swan with messy curls and red puffed eyes.

Her name was Joan, and was the closest Emma ever grasped at as a mother. Was the closest form of warmth and love her little fingertips touched and imprints of her face still lingered in her mind.

But Emma should be used to it. Happiness and home leaving at a too abrupt of a time. Slipping through her young hands in the form of a disease that took Joan's warmth and Emma's share of love.

Creaky floorboards and sways of the vessel would slowly clear away the memories, so Emma focused on Regina and her breathing. In. Out.

In.

Out.

She would sit there and breathe in time with Regina's slow even breaths and counted her 12th splinter as her eyes would slip shut.

They would never talk of whispered songs in the morning light that hit their faces. And they would especially not talk of sleepless nights and soft whimpers of fear shared between the two.

It was never in their nature to bond or understand one another, but it seemed, to Emma that thats all they ever seemed to do. Through their son, family, emotions and it never made sense to Emma why Regina of all people was the closest she could relate to.

The only one Emma seemed to share the warmth with that she though she lost so long ago.

She didn't mean to. Didn't mean to fall so hard and dig deeper as she went. Giving Regina more warmth than she needed. Giving Regina more love than she thought she held.

And as Emma thought of waves of water and creaky wooden beds and the light that was Regina Mills, she wouldn't want anyone else other than the brown eyed beauty to hear her sing.

—

It was the relapse of swinging motions and endless blue sky that got Emma singing again.

Sitting on one of the lone swing sets in Storybrooke Park, she let herself softy carry the words out to the cool air to an idle song drifting through her mind. It was Autumn, and it made her smile. Crunching leaves underneath her feet is her favourite pass time and counting the red leaves lets her mind wonder.

Maybe if she wasn't so focused on the lyrics, or tune of the hymn, or the pleasures of seasons she would've heard soft footsteps in the mulch underneath her.

The opposite swing creaked under pressure as Regina sat down gripping the two rusty chains either side. It made Emma stop and in turn, Regina frown. She loved Emma's singing. In fact, each night now, the words of the first time Emma sung to her circle around her mind, drifting through the cracks and soothing her sleepless mind.

Regina never tired of her voice. Emma just didn't know that. So they sat. With autumn leaves of sunsets falling around them and groaning swings to fill the silence.

Words stuck to Regina's tongue as she let her hands fall to her lap. Holding them together she turned her head to be already met with Emma's eyes seeking hers. She stared and opened her mouth, hoping to hear the lullaby which was Emma's voice when she finished.

"It's beautiful." When she was met with a blank stare and tilt of the head as confusion swept Emma's gaze, she quickly elaborated."Your voice that is, its quite beautiful."

And then, when she smiled, the smile which reaches her eyes and lights up her iris's Regina knew making Emma Swan smile was what she needed to do for a very long time. Because when she smiled it radiated off in waves and it made Regina's heart beat flutter and her nightmares never seemed so far away in her life.

A soft breeze pulled at her long blonde hair and it brought her out of her Regina adoration haze as she untangled the mess that is Regina's nervous hand habit. She then held olive skin in her left hand and marvelled at how calloused yet soft her life lines were that ran the length of her palm.

Emma would always be amazed at the complexity that is Regina and she would never grow tired of it. Both woman found comfort at the touch and Regina held tighter than ever before. She closed her eyes and squeezed Emma's hand as contentment fluidly ran her mind.

Emma was her anchor. And without her, Regina would be tasting the atmosphere as she would sail higher. Out of body. Out of mind. And Regina never knew how to thank Emma for that. To just keep her grounded.

She felt the squeeze as she watched Regina's eyes close and smiled at the peaceful look her face adorned. Emma sighed, and after quick thought filled the crisp air with the sound her voice.

She caught the smile that filtered to Regina's face as she once again let Emma's voice run her mind and fill her ears.

With clasped hands dangling in-between them and songs of autumn days, both woman didn't know when, or how or why, but they knew. Bright lights and lullabies were their life. And it seemed, to them, wooden ships and rusty swing sets was where they were headed. And both didn't seem to mind.


End file.
